Words

I love words.

It may be obvious to those who know me, or perhaps merely by virtue of the fact that I write this blog, but I love words.

I love the way words sound, their texture, the way they feel coming off the tip of my tongue or fingertips. I relish the vibrancy of the image well-chosen words paint, how tangibly, almost palpably they can outline the speaker's soul.

Words are the pallet with which I paint my universe and the medium through which I experience it.

I love finding just the right word, the right expression to explain how I feel, what I see. I love feeling I understand exactly what someone is trying to say, getting them.

This realization about myself is a minor epiphany: I am a talker. Talking, listening, reading and writing is how I experience not only the world, but people; how I make contact and establish intimacy with them.

Not everyone is like that. I recently had a conversation with my ex, in which we noted how different we were. She mentioned how she and her current boyfriend can spend 30 or 45 minutes driving somewhere, or walking, or sitting, and never say a word, not one. They consider this good. I think my ex views words as assaults on her tranquility, things to deal with. Given a choice, she would much rather sit in silence, simply peacefully cohabitate, in parallel, never really interacting, just 'being there' for each other. That, to me, is death, but worse. I know, I lived that way for the last 7 years I was married. It killed me.

I do not understand how non-talkers establish intimacy if not with words. Perhaps they don't, or not as much. Perhaps they don't want, need, yearn for it as much as I. I don't know. Despite having been married to a non-talker for 22 years, I don't get them, and I can't because they won't talk about themselves.

Perhaps the 'strong silent' persona is an outward expression of inner strength, security, tranquility. Perhaps my wordiness is the demonstration of the opposite. It may be, but that's still me, I can't change it.

What is funny, almost hilarious, is how incredibly different my ex and I are, yet how we never noticed this most basic, fundamental difference.